


Squeeze Into Heaven and Valentine

by Chash



Series: Charity Drive 2018 [8]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Matchmaking, Minor Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 03:09:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15787737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Bellamy wouldn't say he likes working long hours for a boss who is, to say the least,dedicatedto her work. But he's getting by just fine.Still, when her daughter shows up with a scheme to get him some more time off, he's not going to say no. Even if it's for no other reason than that he wants to see what Clarke has planned.





	Squeeze Into Heaven and Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> Charity fic for [blizzaurus](http://blizzaurus.tumblr.com/). Inspired by Set It Up, but def went its own way too.

The first time Bellamy meets his boss's daughter, it's ten o'clock at night and he's fighting off a cluster headache as he argues with the delivery guy who is refusing to give him his fucking food.

"Dude, come on," he wheedles.

The delivery guy is the same delivery guy _Bartok's_ always uses, a squinty-eyed kid who goes by just "Murphy," which means that Bellamy has seen him more often in the last year than he's seen his sister and most of his friends. He wouldn't have said they had a deep connection or anything, but he would have thought the guy at least realized he was good for a $30 check.

"Cash only," he says, flat.

"You know I'm going to be ordering from you again in like--fucking two days. I have money."

"You don't have cash. For all I know, this is the last time you're going to order. Just take the food and run."

"That would be the stupidest long con of all time."

"Hey, I don't know what you're into. Maybe this is your thing. You know what I know? No cash, no food."

Bellamy runs his hand through his hair. "I will pay you on the credit card today and pay you again tomorrow. _Twice_. My boss is going to kill me if I don't--"

"Cash only," he says, slow, somehow making two syllables stretch into six.

"How much cash?" someone new asks.

Bellamy and Murphy both turn to see a pretty blonde woman watching them with interest. She looks familiar in a vague way Bellamy can't put his finger on, but it doesn't really matter. She's probably another assistant, someone else who works in the building who's having the same crisis he is and sees an opportunity to get on her boss's good side quickly.

"All yours for thirty-two fifty-three," says Murphy.

Bellamy frowns. "Are you stealing my takeout?"

"Right now, it sounds like it's nobody's takeout," she says, not unreasonably, as she finds a couple twenties in her wallet. "But no, I'm not stealing it, I'm just paying for it. You're Bellamy, right?"

"Yeah," he says, frown deepening. "Sorry, who are you?"

She accepts the bag from Murphy and passes it along to him. "Clarke."

The name is actually enough to jog his memory. "Clarke? Abby's daughter?"

In theory, he was aware that his boss had a daughter, and he probably would have said she looked roughly like this and was about this age if anyone had tried to quiz him on her. There are at least a couple pictures of her in Abby's office. She's a semi-known quantity. But he's never actually _met_ her, and he finds it a little weird that she knows him.

"That's me."

"Pretty late for you to be visiting your mom," he says, like her visiting her mom at other times would somehow be normal. In the two years that he's been working for Abby, Clarke has never stopped by to his knowledge. And he knows basically everything that happens in this building.

"Yeah, that's kind of why I'm here. And I'm not visiting her, I'm visiting you."

"Me?"

"From what I can tell, you schedule every second of her life."

"Yeah, and?"

She huffs. "I want you to schedule in some time for her to _have_ a life."

"That sounds like a family problem, not a me problem."

"Really?" She crosses her arms, watching him. "Because I was thinking it's ten o'clock on a Thursday night and you have no hope of getting home until eleven, at the earliest. I thought if anyone wanted my mom to stop working so much, it would be you."

He tries to come up with a counterargument, he really does. "No offense, but I can't just put _leave work and hang out with your daughter_ on her calendar," he finally says.

"You could," Clarke says, but she looks amused. "It just wouldn't work."

"And I'd probably get fired."

"That too." The elevator dings, and she gestures him in past her. "I was thinking more--she needs a hobby. Or a life outside of me and this job."

"What's she doing to you?" 

"She worries. My girlfriend and I had a bad breakup," she adds, when he just keeps looking at her. "About a year back. So when I do see my mom, it's just her telling me that every aspect of my life sucks and I need to make better choices."

"If I were you, I'd be trying to get her to work more."

"Yeah, that's not helping."

The elevator opens up on his floor, and he sticks his arm out to hold the door for her. "So, what do you think would help? You want me to try to get her into knitting?"

"I think she needs a boyfriend."

Bellamy would be lying if he said the thought had never crossed his mind. He knows Abby is a widow, and while he's not, in general, a believer in the idea everyone needs a relationship, he can't help thinking Abby needs _something_.

"Did you have someone in mind?"

Clarke has the same smile her mother does when she has a plan, the kind of smile Bellamy privately thinks of as _Slytherin_. "As a matter of fact, I do."

*

This, as it turns out, is a lie. Clarke has _three_ people in mind.

"Jesus," he mutters, looking at the profiles. "This is so creepy."

"It's all publicly available information."

"That's not really the creepy part. It's like you're running your own custom season of _The Bachelor_."

" _The Bachelorette_ ," she corrects. "When the person doing the dating is female."

"Seriously, you're really bad at engaging with the relevant part of criticism."

"Anything worth doing is worth doing right," says Clarke, prim. "We just need to pick the right guy and set her up."

"Just like that?"

"I work at a law firm," she says. "While I decide if I want to go to law school or med school or what. These guys are partners at my firm and aren't in relationships right now, and I can--help with their scheduling."

It's Tuesday morning, way too early, so Bellamy's brain is a little slow, but it does get there.

"You're having the same problem I am," he says. "You're hoping if one of the partners gets a girlfriend, you'll have time for a life of your own."

"It's worth a shot," she says. "Look, any of these guys would be a good fit for my mom. I think she'd be happier if she had a little more going on. And so would they."

"Uh huh."

"What, you don't think so?"

"Honestly? I still think you're creepy."

"But you're not saying you won't help me, so at least take a look at the profiles."

Some stubborn, sensible part of him still wants to say no. It's a ridiculous idea, and he has no idea what Clarke actually wants him to do, and if Abby ever finds out, she's probably going to fire him.

On the other hand, Abby was really happy to see Clarke and definitely left earlier than he was expecting on Thursday. If the whole dating scheme actually ends in Abby finding someone and deciding she can work a little less, his life will be better. And Clarke is kind of fun, in a semi-deranged way.

Plus, he really wants to see where this goes.

"Fine," he says. "Hit me."

"Okay; one," she says, sliding the first piece of paper across the table to him. They have an hour for this meeting before he has to be at work, and he thought it would be plenty of time, but he was clearly underestimating Clarke. "Thelonius Jaha. Partner, kind of a hardass, but he and my mom have a lot in common. He's widowed too, and he's got a son about my age, Wells."

Bellamy nods. The guy in the picture is decently attractive, and the vital information checks out. He's not even sure what he's adding to the process. "Sounds good. Candidate two?"

"Marcus Kane. Good guy, smart. He and my mom went to the same college and they kind of know each other, which may or may not help. He feels like a wild card."

"I really don't know how to evaluate these guys. They're hot? What am I bringing to this that you don't already know?"

"You spend more time with my mom than I do at this point. Third candidate, Jacopo Sinclair. He's great."

"That's it?"

She shrugs. "He's a really nice guy. Divorced, but a good relationship with his ex-wife. He works too much, I think he could use someone new."

"But you don't want to set him up with your mom."

Her smile is wry. "Is it that obvious?"

"The enthusiasm isn't exactly blowing me away."

"It's not--" She drums her fingers on the table, sighs. "I want him to have _someone_ , but I'm not convinced my mom is the person? Then again, it's not like I'm exactly an expert on relationships, so what do I know?"

"Bad breakup, right?" he asks, sipping his coffee. "Ex-girlfriend?"

"Yeah, it was--messy. As was my breakup with my ex-boyfriend in college, and basically all my other breakups, so, yeah. I might not be the best judge of character."

"It's not like you can actually logic out relationships," he points out. "We're all just going with attraction and hoping it goes okay."

"How's that working for you?"

He considers that. His love life isn't _bad_ , exactly. He's gone on two dates with Echo Allen, a personal trainer from Brooklyn, and he hopes to someday have time for a third, but he's still figuring that out. His last serious relationship was with Gina Martin, three years ago, and before that it was his college boyfriend, with whom he had an amicable mutual breakup just before graduation. None of his serious relationships have ever ended terribly, and his hookups tend to be low drama. 

The worst part of his Gina breakup was actually how not bad it was; she said that if he'd been more invested, it would have hurt more, and he knew it was true. He's not convinced he's ever been in love, not really, but he thinks he will be. When he has time.

"Could be worse."

"So that makes you the expert. What do you think?"

He studies the three pictures. "I'd want to see them in action. Can we get all four of them together? Has Abby just met this Marcus guy, or does she know the others too?"

"When I got the job, she said she knew the firm by reputation, so--maybe, but I don't think she knows them that well." She taps the lid of her coffee. "Is she going to the museum gala next week? That sounds like her kind of thing."

Bellamy pulls his phone out to check Abby's schedule. "What day?"

"Thursday, I think? At the art museum." She's looking at her own phone, a crease between her eyes as she navigates. "Thursday at eight, yeah. I think all the partners are supposed to at least put in an appearance."

"It's on the calendar as a maybe."

"Can you upgrade it?"

His finger hovers over the event. It's not a big deal, making Abby go to a party. It's probably good for her. And while it's not completely appropriate, it's also Clarke's idea. He's not setting his boss up entirely for his own selfish gain. Plus, it was already in the calendar. He's just turning it from a possibility into an obligation.

"Are you going to be there?" he asks.

She looks surprised. "Yeah."

"Okay, cool. I'm going to tell her you wanted to see her if she asks why she has to go."

"That should work. Can you come too?"

In theory, Bellamy took the job with Abby in part to go to things like this, to network and make connections. But he's never been great at that, and being an assistant doesn't really give him a ton of opportunities. He's invisible to most of Abby's associates, the guy who gets things done when they need to be done and stops existing as soon as that's over.

"You think I should come?" he asks.

"I want a second opinion on chemistry. Like I said, I don't trust my judgement."

"I'll see if I can swing it," he says. "Your mom doesn't always want me coming to shit like that."

"You could use me as an excuse for that too," she points out. "Say I called to ask if you were coming and said you should. She'll love that."

"Will she?"

She shrugs, but it's not quite as casual as he thinks she wants it to be. "Like I said, she's not happy I'm single, you're an attractive guy in my age range."

"There's no way your mom wants you to date me," he says before he can stop himself.

"No?"

"I'm her assistant."

"Meaning what?"

He feels his jaw tense in irritation. "Executives don't usually want their assistants dating their daughters." If she needs it spelled out more, he might just leave. Fucking rich people.

But she flushes, like she's embarrassed she didn't put it together. "I don't think she really cares, honestly. She just wants me dating _someone_. And she likes you."

If anyone had asked, he would have said Abby liked him in a vague, somewhat impersonal way. He's a good employee and he makes her life easier, but he also would have assumed he wasn't really a person to her.

He's not sure what to do with the idea that she might actually value him on an individual level.

"Okay, so--I'll try to come too," he says, a little awkward.

Clarke smiles. "Cool. So--plan?"

"Plan," he agrees, and tells himself it's a good one.

He almost believes it.

*

Abby doesn't take much convincing to go to the party, which is a relief, and when he says he was thinking of going too, she just says, "Oh, yes, that would be good, thank you."

It makes him suspect that he's going to be less a guest and more a sidekick, but if his entire job is to hang out at her elbow getting her drinks, it's not really the worst thing. He's there to gather data, so he wants to be close to her anyway. It'll be useful; he's going to see how she interacts.

But, if he's honest, he's mostly looking forward to seeing Clarke again.

They've been talking, off and on, nothing deep or profound, just his checking in about the party, Clarke offering a weird piece of trivia about one of the partners or another, like she thinks he needs to know that Thelonius Jaha likes the same brand of Greek yogurt Abby does.

_You really might suck at this_ , he texts her back, _if you think that's a solid basis for a relationship_.

It's not as if Bellamy doesn't have friends. He and his roommate get along, and he has a bunch of friends who reply whenever he texts them, but he doesn't actually see much of them. And he doesn't see much of Clarke either, obviously, but he _wants_ to see more of her. He wants her to become one of his regular people, and he doesn't think that can happen without more interaction. The reason he can text Monty and Raven out of the blue is that he used to be a regular part of their lives, and they still love him even if their schedules don't align that often. With Clarke, he still needs to get through that first step, the becoming friends, and to do that, he needs to see more of her.

She greets him at the gala with a drink already in hand for him, her hair swept up in an elegant, complicated style, her dress honestly criminally hot.

"Glad you could make it."

He makes a show of checking her out. "Me too."

"I wasn't even talking about how much you're rocking that suit. Where's my mom?"

"She's here, don't worry. She's talking to Charmaine Diyoza and I figured I'd leave them to it. If she's not in soon I'll go get her. What about the lucky contestants?"

"Marcus and Thelonius are here, I think Sinclair might have already bailed."

"You guys aren't on a first-name basis?"

"He doesn't really do first names too much. Or parties. I tried to get him to stay but I'm pretty sure _going to the bathroom_ was code for getting a taxi."

"You still think this is a good idea?" he asks. "Setting your mom up."

"Did you change your mind?"

"I was never that sold on it. The only reason I'm this okay with it is that it's your mom, so you get to be invested in her personal life."

"I think as long as we're all here, I should introduce her to the partners, right? It's just polite."

"You're kind of scary, you know that?"

She beams. "I try."

Abby is thrilled to see Clarke, and that's also always a little weird for Bellamy. Abby's busy, but she's also a workaholic. If she wanted to spend more time with her daughter, she could. Even if Clarke works long hours, they could make time. 

You prioritize the people you want to see, which is a little uncomfortable to think about, honestly.

"Do you know Thelonius?" Clarke asks, pulling her mother to the man Bellamy recognizes from her dossier. He's taller than Bellamy thought he would be, still hot, probably a decent prospect. Abby can date Thelonius, Clarke can date the son he apparently has, and they can star on one of those a reality-TV shows about rich families that Bellamy will never watch.

"Not well enough," says Abby, smooth, and the two of them chat easily, the kind of friendly, casual conversation that Bellamy hasn't ever gotten the hang of. It feels as if they're speaking two separate languages, text and subtext, and he's never gotten even close to conversant in the second.

Clarke loops her arm in his. "I need another drink."

"And I'm just supposed to come with you?" 

"I'll finish yours too if you don't need one yet."

He laughs. "I'll finish it by the time we get to the bar." As they walk, he drops his voice. "What do you think?"

"Do you watch _Bob's Burgers_?"

It's about the last question he expected. "Uh, yeah."

"You know how there's that scene when someone tells Bob that a couple is cute, and Bob just says they sure are standing next to each other? That's how I feel about couples basically all the time."

He snorts. "They're actually standing across from each other."

"Good note."

"We can see how she is with the other guy. Marcus?"

"Yeah. We'll grab him on the way, we can compare and contrast."

"How are you going to deal with three people standing next to each other? _Bob's Burgers_ never prepared you for that."

Clarke ducks her head, laughing. "Threesome, obviously."

"If you make me put a threesome in your mom's schedule, I might never forgive you."

"I would never _make_ my mom have a threesome, Bellamy. That's her choice." They get to the front of the line and she orders her own cocktail and covers his beer while she's at it. If she was just another assistant like him, he'd feel bad, but if she's Abby's daughter, she's never going to go hungry. She can afford a beer.

"Okay, so where is he?"

Clarke stands on her tiptoes, looking through the crowd to try to spot him. Bellamy does his best to help, as a slightly taller person, but he only has the vaguest memory of what the guy looked like, so there's only so much he can do.

"Got him," says Clarke, and he follows her as she weaves through the throng of semi-inebriated rich people hobnobbing. It's one of those classy parties where everyone is drunk but doesn't show it, another skill Bellamy's never gotten the hang of.

Maybe if he asks, Clarke will come to more of these, and he can get Abby to come, and Clarke can show him how this works. That actually sounds kind of fun.

"Marcus!" says Clarke, once they're close enough. "Hey."

Marcus Kane was definitely looking a little lost and overwhelmed, but at the sound of Clarke's voice, he slaps on a game face. It's just a small thing, but it's a point in his favor, as far as Bellamy's concerned. Even if it's not necessarily a sign he's good for Abby.

"Clarke, good to see you." He offers Bellamy a bland smile, and Clarke turns to offer him a much brighter one.

"This is Bellamy Blake, my mom's assistant." She pauses, and Bellamy's pretty sure she's counting the seconds to make it seem casual. Clarke is awesome. "Have you met my mom?"

"We went to college together."

"Then you should come say hi."

She doesn't wait for a response, and Bellamy and Marcus exchange a look, amused and a little exasperated.

"If you're Abby's assistant, I assume you spend a lot of time following in Griffin women's wakes," Marcus murmurs.

"Yeah. But they usually know where they're going."

Sure enough, Clarke finds her way back to Abby despite the crowd, and Abby definitely-- _brightens_. Like she's happy to see them, but in a way Bellamy's never witnessed before.

"We found Marcus," says Clarke, and Abby offers her hand.

"Good to see you."

"Abby," says Marcus. "It's been too long."

And Bellamy has to say, for the first time possibly in his life, he can _see_ a spark.

*

"Marcus," he says.

He and Clarke are at McDonald's, still dressed to the nines, sharing an order of chicken nuggets but not fries, because Clarke insisted she needed a large just for herself.

"Yeah?"

"You didn't think so?"

Clarke shrugs. "They've got history, I guess. I thought she and Thelonius were getting along too."

"Yeah, but neither of them seemed interested. They were being polite, but not warm."

"And she and Marcus were warm?"

"I thought they seemed happy to see each other. Way more encouraging."

"I told you you were better at this."

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, you're setting the bar really low, Miss _They Sure Are Standing Next to Each Other_."

"Please, call me Clarke." She takes one of the nuggets and dunks it. "So, what's our next move?"

"No idea. You make the plans, I'm just the chemistry consultant."

"We're a team."

"With different specialties." 

She sighs. "I think it would be easier if Marcus made the first move, but I'm not sure how to get him to do it. I doubt Mom would, unless you have any bright ideas."

His kneejerk reaction is no, but he makes himself actually think about it. "Can we get them together again?" he asks. "Somewhere more private, where they'd find each other and talk on their own."

"Marcus does stuff, I'm pretty sure," Clarke says, and Bellamy chokes on a laugh. "Shut up!"

"Sorry, that was just-- _does stuff_. Helpful."

"What about my mom? Does she have hobbies?"

It's a little sad Clarke has to ask him, but not actually that surprising. Abby's days are mostly filled with work and work-adjacent things; she doesn't do very much for herself, and even things that are ostensibly for her own enrichment tend to be work-adjacent, researching articles or networking to get contacts.

"Is there a story in the firm?" he asks, the idea forming at the same time he says the words.

"What do you mean?"

"If she thought he could be a source for a piece, she'd reach out to him."

"We do estate law," says Clarke, with a smile. "Unless a politician dies and we're handling his will, I don't think Mom would have much to write about. Unless--"

"Unless?"

"I remember she used to do some writing for the alumni magazine. Does she still?"

"Not recently. They reach out to her sometimes, like for elections and stuff."

"Do you think you could suggest it? A profile of a fellow alum?"

The strangest thing is, Bellamy thinks he _could_ make that happen. He could get in touch with the alumni office, ask if they wanted a piece from Abby, even tell them she was going to interview Marcus Kane, and they'd just tell him when they need the piece. Any calls she gets about it will come through him first, and if he tells her they reached out to her instead of the other way around, she'll never know.

He knew, abstractly, that he had a lot of control over Abby's life. But he'd never thought of abusing it like this before.

"I could make that happen," he says, and Clarke lights up like the sun.

"You're the best."

"If this blows up and I get fired, I'm never going to forgive you."

"Or it's awesome and you get a raise."

He reaches over and steals one of her fries. "Never forgive you."

"It's going to be fine," Clarke says, sure. "Just you wait."

*

The article scheme goes so well Bellamy feels kind of dirty. He gets in touch with the alumni magazine and says that Abby recently reconnected with Marcus Kane at an event and thought that a conversation between the two of them might be of interest to the publication. The woman he speaks with basically trips over herself in her enthusiasm, and when Bellamy tells Abby about the request, she agrees easily enough that he thinks there might actually be something there.

"See?" says Clarke, beaming. They're at the same coffee place where they met the first time, in what's becoming a semi-regular morning appointment. "I told you you're not getting fired."

"I'm not getting fired _yet_. When can Marcus meet her? If we set it up now I don't have to call you later."

"God forbid you have to talk to me."

"I'm trying to leave on time tonight," he says, hating how awkward he feels. "I have a date."

Because he's paying attention, he doesn't miss the slight flinch, the subtle frown that flits over her face before she recovers her good cheer. "Yeah?"

"Assuming your mom actually lets me go."

"Dream big. Who's the girl? Or guy?"

"Girl, this time. Personal trainer from Brooklyn. We've been out a couple times, but I'm kind of a nightmare to date, so I don't know if it's going to last."

"Maybe if my mom starts dating Marcus, you won't have to cancel all the time."

"Now who's dreaming big?" He takes a sip of coffee, feeling awkward. It's not as if he and Clarke are--anything, really. She's gorgeous and he really likes her, but they're barely even friends. They're co-conspirators, and he has no idea what happens once the conspiracy is over. 

He's probably just reading into things.

Clarke's phone buzzes, and she checks it. "Okay, give me schedule stuff fast," she says. "Sinclair needs me in the office ASAP, so I need to get going soon."

Abby just had a cancellation, which means that, miraculously, she and Marcus are both free for lunch. Bellamy rearranges some other things and gets a two-hour block, and he and Clarke both fill it with the meeting.

"Can you book a table for them somewhere?" she asks, gathering her things.

"Yeah, I'll find something and text you." He smiles. "Have a good day at work."

"You too. Good luck with the date."

The morning is busy. Bellamy books a table for lunch at Abby's favorite place, lets Clarke know before Abby gets in, and when Abby asks about it, he explains that Clarke called to let him know that Marcus had a cancellation.

"You two seem to have hit it off," Abby remarks, not looking at him. 

"Yeah," he says, not sure what else to say. _We're plotting against you_ probably wouldn't go over well. "We have a lot in common."

"That's good. Clarke could use more friends. She's been having a little trouble since she moved here. Socially speaking."

Maybe his life now is just listening to the Griffin women worry about each other instead of just having a conversation.That's his new thing. "I'm glad I can help," he says, because he's not going to press Abby on the issue. If Clarke wants to talk about this with him, she can.

But it stays with him, of course, for the rest of the afternoon, in the background of his mind. He and Clarke text a little, to confirm that both Abby and Marcus have left for the appointment, and then a flurry of texts when they're both _late_ coming back. Abby doesn't have firm plans for an hour after the end of the lunch appointment, but she tends to consider her afternoon writing time sacred.

**Clarke** : Marcus just rolled back in  
No explanation  
Just "sorry I'm late"

**Me** : No sign of your mom yet, but I assume she's on her way  
You're a little closer to the restaurant  
I'll let you know what she says about the article

**Clarke** : Cool, keep me posted

When Abby comes back, though, she's not interested in talking, and Bellamy has to draw details out of her casually over the next few hours, just checking in about when she wants to work on the piece and how long she thinks it's going to take, and none of it is really very helpful. This isn't his strong suit. 

It's not until Abby says, at five-thirty, that she should be done in half an hour and out on time that he realizes, with a sinking feeling, that he was hoping she'd stay later. That some part of him was primed to send Echo the awkward _I have to cancel_ text, that he'd actually been looking forward to it. He was going to text Clarke, see when they could meet up, make a plan.

So he's an asshole, and he's canceling on Echo.

The lie is quick and easy-- _Sorry, had to work late, I might be too busy for this after all_ \--and Echo responds promptly without too much surprise or disappointment. It's been a month since the last time they went out; he can't blame her for giving up on him.

Then he texts Clarke.

**Me** : How's your evening looking?

**Clarke** : Bad  
I think I can leave by nine, if I'm lucky  
Are you making your date?

**Me** : No, but I'll be out by seven  
You want me to bring you pizza?

The pause is so long that he almost says something else, explains that he wants to do the best post-mortem they can on the lunch date, figure out next steps. It didn't feel like it had to be a big deal.

It's not like he told her he canceled the date.

"Fuck," he mutters, rubbing his face, but his phone buzzes before he can panic too much.

**Clarke** : Pepperoni?

He grins.

**Me** : I can do that  
See you at seven?

**Clarke** : Just text and I'll come let you in

*

Bellamy googled Clarke's firm, once he got involved with this whole matchmaking scheme, but this is his first time actually visiting. It's not actually that far from his office, a fifteen-minute walk on pretty safe streets, and he can't stop thinking about how much more Abby and Clarke could be seeing each other, if they wanted to be.

_I'm in the lobby_ , he texts, and Clarke comes down to meet him. She looks worn out, a little rough around the edges, but her smile is genuine.

"Thanks for bringing pizza."

"I was in the neighborhood," he says. "This is really close."

"Still, you're missing your date."

He shrugs. "It would have taken me a lot longer to get to Brooklyn, I wasn't going to make her wait. I, uh--I told her I didn't think it was going to work out."

"Really?"

"It's not like I have time to date."

"Yeah, but you're going to, right? Isn't that the whole point?"

"The whole point is that you want to set your mom up. I'm just helping."

"Getting you more free time is definitely part of the point. You don't have to use it for dating, but it's an option."

He grabs a slice of pizza. "I don't have to use it to date her."

"I guess you don't."

"Nope." He nudges her. "So, did Marcus say anything about lunch?"

She takes the subject change without further argument. "Not much. I could pry a little since he was with my mom, I asked how she was doing, he said well. They had a _nice chat_."

"I guess that's a good start. Any ideas where we go from here?"

"Other alumni stuff, maybe? Maybe football games?"

"Maybe." He sighs. "At some point they need to take some initiative. We can't make their whole relationship."

"No. Maybe I should take my mom out to dinner and try to gossip with her."

"Better you than me."

Clarke rolls her eyes at him over her slice of pizza. "I'd never make you do that."

He's sure she means it, too, but the dinner conversation actually happens completely by accident, a week later, in Abby's office. 

Because that night is a shift for him and Clarke, too. Even if Clarke doesn't know that he lied about having to work late, that he canceled his date to hang out with her, it was still a new step for them. The next night, Clarke texts to ask if he's still working at 7:30, and when he is she comes over with Chinese, and the night after that he goes to her with burgers.

She doesn't text on Wednesday before she shows up with Thai, though, which is how Bellamy finds himself eating dinner with his boss _and_ her daughter, whom he might have a very slight crush on.

Which isn't awkward at all.

"I didn't know you two ate together," Abby observes.

"Sometimes," Clarke says, offering Bellamy one of her scallion pancakes. "When we're both working late. It's not too far between the offices."

"No, I suppose not."

"You could probably have lunch with Marcus more," she says, innocent.

"Clarke."

"What? If you're allowed to say I need more friends, I'm allowed to say you need more friends."

It's the first time he really feels like he's seeing Clarke and Abby as they must be in private, and it's strange to watch. Abby ducks her head, smiles in a way that reminds him of her daughter, and Clarke's triumphant smile when her mother can't see is all Abby, on the phone when someone has just said something they shouldn't have said to a reporter.

"Marcus and I have a lot of history," Abby finally says.

Clarke's eyebrows shoot up. "History?"

"I'm sure Bellamy doesn't want to hear this."

"I'm working," he says, holding up his phone. "Returning emails."

Clarke leans over, propping her chin on his shoulder to look at the screen, and Bellamy gets a big breath of her, unexpectedly bright. 

Abby's still smiling, at least.

"You could take a break."

"Yeah, but then I'd be listening to either my boss and her daughter or my friend and her mother gossiping about a guy I met once. I'll keep working, thanks. Maybe if I finish these now we can walk to the train station together."

"Okay, fine, do the emails. Mom, you have _history_ with Marcus? How did you not tell me this?"

Abby takes a deliberate sip of her water. "I didn't think you'd want to hear I put in a good word for you with my ex-boyfriend."

" _Ex-boyfriend_?"

Bellamy switches over to his messaging app to text Clarke: _I told you he was a better pick than Thelonius_.

Clarke doesn't do more than glance at her phone, but she still flashes him a quick smile before turning her attention back to her mother.

"It's not a big deal," Abby says, like anyone will believe this. "We went out for about a year in college."

"What happened?"

"You make it sound like something has to _happen_ ," says Abby. "He was a year older than I was. We dated my sophomore year. I went abroad junior year, when he was a senior. By the time I was coming back, he would have graduated, so we agreed it made more sense to just end it before I left. We stayed friends," she adds.

"Friends who barely talk."

"I graduated several decades before you did," Abby says, dry. "How many of the people you're still friends with from college do you talk to?"

"Do you want me to count?"

"I don't," Bellamy mutters, and Clarke elbows him.

"I thought you were working."

"It's hard to zone out the two of you arguing about who's worse at having friends. I'm calling it a tie."

Clarke turns her attention back to her mother. "I just can't believe you didn't tell me you used to date my boss."

"It was only a year in college."

"Which makes it weirder that neither of you ever mentioned it. If it's really not a big deal."

Abby's eyes narrow. "Clarke."

"What? You both act like you barely know each other. That's weird."

Abby opens and closes her mouth. "You might be right. But this reaction is exactly why I _didn't_ tell you. I didn't want you to read into it."

"Too late."

"Obviously."

"It's hard," Abby finally says. "I feel as if we should be closer, but I don't know what to say to him."

_She wants to date him again_ , Bellamy texts, and Clarke does check her phone for this one, texts back, _Wow, thanks for telling me, I had no idea_.

_Chemistry is my job_ , he reminds her, and she stows her phone again 

"Just have Bellamy call me to set up dinner some night. It doesn't have to be hard."

"I shouldn't just show up with Thai food?" Abby teases.

"You could, but that's a pretty advanced technique."

"Yeah, Clarke's an expert," Bellamy says, deadpan.

"Sorry, are you saying we're not friends?"

"I'm saying just because you got lucky doesn't make you an authority. But I could set up a dinner," he adds. "Just let me know."

"Do you think he would read into that?"

Clarke's mouth twitches. "I can't tell if you want him to or not."

"I wouldn't want to rule out the possibility," she says, careful. "Obviously, I assume Marcus isn't--it's been a long time, I don't have any reason to think he would be reading into it for--well, I don't want to scare him off, if he's--"

"You're _nervous_ ," Clarke says, sounding surprised and a little delighted.

"The last date I went on was with your father," Abby says, dry. "I think I'm allowed to be a little nervous."

Her expression softens. "Of course you are. But the first step is admitting you want to go on a date."

"Yeah, I'm out," says Bellamy, more for Abby's sake than his own. He wouldn't actually mind eavesdropping, but his boss is nervous enough as it is, and he doesn't need to make it worse. "I'm going to go finish up these emails in the office. Abby, let me know if you need anything else. Clarke, tell me when you're leaving."

They don't make him wait that long; Clarke's knocking on the door frame in less than half an hour, smiling softly.

"My mom said she doesn't care if you're done, you're going home."

"Did you get that in writing?"

Her eyes drop to her feet, and Bellamy's heart flips. "She said she'd let me set up a dinner for her with Marcus, and I should take the chance to let you take me out too. So--I think she probably likes you."

"I honestly don't care that much if _she_ likes me," he says, and Clarke breaks out in a grin.

"Of course _I_ like you. Was I not being obvious enough? I felt really obvious."

"You can never be obvious enough for me." He worries his lip. "I'm going to need a new job."

"You are?"

"Honestly? I could live with my job getting better because my boss got a boyfriend, but I'd feel weird if my job got better because I'm dating my boss's daughter. And I definitely want to date my boss's daughter."

Happiness breaks out on Clarke's face, bright and brilliant, and Bellamy logs out of the computer and goes to join her at the door.

"As long as you want to date your boss's daughter," she says, grinning up at him.

"You," he says. "I really want to date _you_."

"Same. Ready to take me home?"

"Not quite," he admits, and leans down to kiss her.

She doesn't seem to mind the wait.

*

"How much _you owe your entire relationship to me_ do you think belongs in a maid of honor speech?" Clarke asks.

Bellamy snorts, presses his lips to her shoulder. She's working on the speech in her phone in bed, last-minute because she's been so busy with school and also because, it must be said, she can be kind of a procrastinator.

"I'm the one who said she you should set her up with Marcus instead of Thelonius, so if you're going to put that in, you have to share the credit. It wasn't all you."

"Okay, how much _you owe your entire relationship to me and my boyfriend_ belongs in there?"

"Have you told her yet? The we set her up."

"Not in so many words. I mean, we didn't do a ton that she didn't know about. And most of that was actually me wanting to hang out more with you."

"That's probably your best tactic to take," he says, snuggling closer so he can see what she already has written. So far it's just, _Thanks for coming, everyone_ , which was about what he was expecting. " _I accidentally got my mom together with her former boyfriend when I was trying to flirt with her assistant_ is probably a cuter story than _I wanted my boss to give me more time off and I figured my mom's assistant wanted the same thing_. And less likely to ruin my reference from her."

Clarke laughs. "I think you don't need her reference at this point. Your articles pretty much speak for themselves. Which is good, because your girlfriend's mom is always going to seem biased." 

"I had no idea." He nabs her phone. "Your intro sucks."

"Thanks. Honestly, I was just waiting for you to take over, you're the writer."

"I can do that." He taps his jaw, looking at the blank draft. "Hey, you remember how I was dating a girl when we met?"

"You said you were barely dating."

"Yeah, I was. I'm telling a story here."

Clarke laughs and snuggles closer. "Okay, reminding me of the girl I never met but was very jealous of. Good first step."

"Your mom didn't make me stay late so I had to cancel my date with her. I canceled on her because I wanted to hang out with you. That was the first time I knew I was falling for you."

"Not that dress I wore at the museum?"

He laughs. "I knew you were hot already. That was when I knew it was love."

"Is there a reason we're talking about this now? Are you putting it in my speech?"

"Not exactly. I was just thinking--" He swallows hard. He's not _nervous_ , exactly; he doesn't think this is going to go badly. But it's still a little bit terrifying. "This would be a better speech if I was your fiance, and I always figured I'd tell you that story when I proposed."

"Always?"

"It seemed romantic. And I wanted to get credit for it."

"My favorite romances involve lying to people," she teases. "And marriage proposals in bed."

"You love our romance," he says. "And it's more of a pre-proposal. Just--checking if you want it to be."

"I think we might steal Mom and Marcus's thunder if I announce we're engaged during my maid-of-honor speech. Even if does make a better story."

"That's not a no, though."

"Of course it's not a no," she says, leaning up to peck him on the mouth. "Just--keep it out of the wedding speech, maybe. But thanks for letting me know I didn't have to be jealous of that girl."

"You don't have to be jealous of anyone. I'm going to marry you," he says, feeling the thrill of saying it for the first time.

"You are," she agrees. "But first, we have to get through this wedding. So make with the speech."

" _I don't want to take too much credit, but this wedding might not have happened if it wasn't for me_ ," says Bellamy, reading aloud as he types. "Good start?"

"Perfect start," she says, settling in all warm and content and exactly right. "Keep going."


End file.
